


you cut through all the noise

by madnessiseverything



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Despair, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, M/M, POV Second Person, defiant softness, s5 trailer spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: You blink and look down at the tape recorder nestled into the messy duvet in front of you. It sits, as if in wait. You want to be angry, grab it and throw it out of the window across the way. Let it join the distorted nightmare playing behind the window panes. Instead, you swallow and talk.the one where the s5 trailer hurt us all.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	you cut through all the noise

**Author's Note:**

> so s5 really comes out this week huh... it really is here. hope you enjoy me stretching out my second-person pov writing and focusing it on the trailer. 
> 
> title from "the anchor" by bastille (very much a jm song i suggest you listen to it if you dont know it)

Everything is changed. There is nothing but fear now, nothing but the screams and the pain, nothing but what the Entities wish the world to be. There is a whirring sound that undercuts the howling outside. It accompanies the artwork of fear playing across the entire world.

You blink and look down at the tape recorder nestled into the messy duvet in front of you. It sits, as if in wait. You want to be angry, grab it and throw it out of the window across the way. Let it join the distorted nightmare playing behind the window panes. Instead, you swallow and talk. You resign yourself to its presence, once again reminding you that nothing is your own anymore. Everything belongs to them, now that everything is changed. 

There is a gentle knock, Martin on the other side. Your lips pull into a smile despite the horrors within your mind, because that’s what Martin brings. Feelings that have no place in a world like this. He has always been too good for you. Yet, you joke because you could never deprive yourself of the warmth Martin brings. You’re way too selfish for that.   
  
He mindlessly chatters, asks how you are ( _ what a pointless endeavour, you will never change again, you will continue to be in the state you are in now, grasping for humanity’s fears brought to light _ ), offers you the cup clasped in his defiantly still hands. They’ve been cold a lot in the new world. He pretends it doesn’t bother him, but you know. You wish you could stop knowing.    
  
It’s not tea, the thing that swirls in the stubbornly cheerful cup ( _ a cartoon cat that, would you to dare and look closer, would morph to grow teeth stained with blood _ ). It’s not tea, and when Martin tells you he brought tea, you know he didn’t.    
  
The contents of the cup scuttle away when Martin drops the cup, and you look away before the stain on the floorboards can turn crimson, before the shards of porcelain can turn into teeth begging to rip something apart.    
  
Martin is angry, hurt, desperately clinging to the comfort that he has always known how to bring. It only almost hurts to tell him that it’s futile. But he needs to know, needs to understand that the new world doesn’t work like this anymore. They cannot trust  _ comfort _ . Martin’s eyes are shimmering and you look away, back down to your clenched hands. He remains stubborn, even manages a laugh, and you envy him. You carefully don’t think about the things you would do to preserve Martin’s attempts at fighting off despair. You fear his stubbornness will kill him, now that everything outside of the safehouse is screaming, twisting, tearing, terrifying. Now that everything is fear.    
  
Martin’s hands aren’t cold when they frame your face. He looks down at you, defiantly soft, and reminds you. He is here and will be here for you, will continue to be here for you. And you know it, can feel it in the way he leans his forehead against yours. He’ll be here, no matter what. You think this should scare you more than anything.    
  
Martin joins you on the bed, wraps his arms around you and you allow yourself to breathe, if only for a second. You hide your face in his shoulder, futile, defiant. You know it won’t make you stop seeing it all, but it makes Martin run his hands through your hair and press kisses into your temple. It’s worth all that.    
  
Martin whispers apologies, holds you tighter when you tell him what you see. You don’t think you could ever truly convey how right it all feels. How the fear settles in your bones as if it has always belonged, how every sight is more beautiful than the last. Terrible, horrifying, awe-inspiring.    
  
You twist your hands into Martin’s jumper. He turns, hides you from the window, from everything outside. It doesn’t work, but you appreciate it nonetheless.    
  
The new world has no place for comfort, no place for defiant love. Of course Martin is the one to carve out a space for it all regardless. Beautiful, stubborn Martin. You know that you will continue to hold on in return. Outside, the world rages on.   
  
Everything may be changed. You may not trust comfort, not trust the cheerful cups of tea mocking you. But you trust Martin. That will be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [tumblr](https://extinctioniscoming.tumblr.com) and on [twitter](https://twitter.com/notanycritter). please come scream with me about... Everything


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